Music & Nightlife

Chow
The Bite of Life

Last night I saw a terribly old man eating a meal at the Pause Bar and Restaurant in Portland. My eyes could not leave the sight of this man. I was mesmerized by the slowness with which he ate his food. He was not only slow, but also shook the loose flesh of his cheeks as he chewed. And what he chewed was a of lot food: a hamburger, a pile of thick fries, a green salad, and a piece of pie. Despite his slowness, he ate it all. Not a single crumb escaped his miserable method of eating—a form of eating that had nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with existence. He was eating to live and become even older than he already was. This old man had a hard bite on life. He was not going to let go so easily. His bite on existence was like a dog biting a rock.

Comments

Ah Charles, remember, someday you too will be a lonely old man sitting in a restaurant trying to get down a decent meal with a mouthful of fake teeth, probable gastroenteritis, and irritable bowel syndrome to boot.

If you're really lucky, you won't have some arrogant youth staring rudely at you for your entire meal, wishing you would die because he doesn't approve of the way you masticate.

The problem with this post is neither its subject nor the writer but with one "judgemental" word: "miserable." For all you know, Charles, that old man was enjoying himself immensely...like a dog biting a rock [great line!]